


when people are talking (let them talk)

by evenofday (hihilumin)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Brian Needs a Hug, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Reunions, Family is Difficult, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Kim Wonpil/Yoon Dowoon, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, boys being stupid, brian is a grandma's boy, i love cliches, jae is an idiot, jae wonpil n dowoon are in a band, sungjin is brian's cousin, they share a bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26678503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihilumin/pseuds/evenofday
Summary: Brian’s family doesn’t initially want him to come — calls him too emotional, unable to handle his feelings or keep them in check. But he and his grandma have always been close; it had always been her wish (and a joke, of sorts) to see Brian happy with someone before she passed.So, really, Jae insists it's not a lie — or, at the very least, it's a good one.or, jae volunteers to be brian's boyfriend during a family reunion back to ilsan, because he should definitely help brian fulfill his grandma’s dying wish, and also he’s in love with him, but that’s unimportant.based on lulu wang's "the farewell" (2019)
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 30
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi !! this is me putting the first chapter up so i get the motivation to do the rest ;; i've been so into day6 recently and this is my first kpop fic in a long time, so i hope you enjoy this!!

It starts with a phone call.

The phone rings, and this is normal, because that is what phones do; it vibrates against the table ceaselessly, tune an 8bit version of its owner's latest favorite webtoon. Brian, in the middle of a particularly pointed argument with Jae about natal charts or something or other (Jae had been skeptical of astrology’s validity altogether and Brian had told him to stop being such a damn _Virgo_ ), holds his hand up in temporary time out.

Still, “That doesn’t make any sense.” Jae manages to hiss stubbornly before Brian shoots him a _shut up_ glare, finally accepting the call. “Hello –– hello?” He starts in English first, and then Korean immediately after, as if correcting a mistake; that’s enough to tell Jae he’s speaking to family. 

Sure enough, “Hi, Grandma!” is what comes out of Brian’s mouth next; if Jae leaned in even closer he could hear the delighted, fussy sounds that only a well-intentioned elderly Korean woman could provide. 

( _Brian, sweet boy! Why are you up so late?_ ) “Late? Grandma, it’s only like 8 PM.”  
( _It’s getting cold there, isn’t it? You should be wearing a hat! And gloves!_ ) “I am!” (He’s not.) “Don’t worry about me!”

Brian’s Korean sounds so seamless on his tongue, and maybe Jae’s a little jealous, thinks it must be nice to not need that split second of translation in his head. He’s lived in the US all his life, but Brian had gotten to New York first, at the age of 8 –– still, when Jae had moved across the country in middle school all tall, awkward, and full of the need to be _liked_ , it was as if they’d known each other their entire lives.

It’s for that reason words are near unnecessary between them. Case in point: with the phone pressed tightly to his ear, Brian makes a gesture towards the empty coffee cups that sit between them; Jae doesn’t need to be told twice, taking the cups and standing to find the nearest trash bin. It isn’t too far off from where they’re sitting, so he can still make out bits and pieces of Brian’s conversation, even without hearing Grandma Kang’s replies ( _Yes_ , he’s doing okay, just having coffee with Jae before heading over to his parents’. _Yes_ , he’s making sure to eat a lot. _Yes_ , Jae’s doing okay, too).

Jae’s heart swells at that, a little bit. He likes that he’s important enough to Brian that his family members ask about him, too; in those instances he feels less guilty of having latched on to the other in middle school and never letting go, knowing full well that he nearly means just as much to Brian as Brian does to him.

There’s a small smile playing at his lips when he turns back to the table, hands shoved into his pockets and ready to go. Brian moves to stand as well; he looks a lot less ill at ease when he talks to his grandma, and it shows in the way his posture no longer looks like he’s guarding himself from the rest of the world –– like the weight of New York hasn’t brought him down just yet.

(It’s a nice look on him, Jae thinks, even if he tries so hard not to think it. He thinks this whole being in love with your best friend thing is getting old, and with it being unrequited, well –– he’s _tired_ of the cliches, universe.)

“Good to go?” Brian asks him, in English this time. Jae nods (again –– words are never necessary), and as they start walking side by side Brian’s attention is quickly redirected to the family on the other end. “Huh? Oh, no, that was just Jae. –– yeah, he says hi.” As if on cue, Jae ceremoniously waves a hand in Brian’s face, mouthing _Hi, Grandma Kang!_ exaggeratedly. The other swats it away, unamused. 

“Hey, Grandma, where did you say you wer––” Brian’s brows furrow. There’s clear confusion on his face before he nods, slowly. “Okay, call me when you … can?” It’s more of a question than an imperative, and when his phone falls to his side the bewilderment doesn’t go away.

Upon seeing the questioning look on Jae’s face, the other shrugs his shoulders. “Old people.” he supplies, as if that’s enough explanation for whatever it was that had cut his call short; truthfully, Jae supposes it’s pretty sufficient.

The two round a corner, attempting to continue their previous conversation over the hustle and bustle of New York noise (Brian tries to convince Jae that the reason he and his ex broke up was because their sun signs _???_ just weren’t meant to be in the first place, or something or other; Jae doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s actually because both he and Jackson were trying to fill a hole in their hearts that were already molded in the shape of someone else).

They bicker like this all the way down the steps descending to the subway, and right before Brian boards the train to Queens he says “One last chance to come home for dinner with me.”

Jae grins, shaking his head. “As tempting as Mama Kang’s cooking sounds, at least take me on a date first.” he says, keeping his tone casual. Brian rolls his eyes, but it’s not without fondness, and Jae thinks, briefly, he could live on that unspoken fondness all the days of his life.

Instead, he says “See you at home,” waving a small goodbye to the train that whirs to life, taking the boy he's in love with far away, and thinking that not even the stars could’ve predicted just how fucking cliche that sounds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i do this instead of my homework? absolutely! 
> 
> but ANYWAY –– it's happening, folks!!! i'm writing as leisurely as i can but i can't help but be excited for what's to come; i hope u guys are excited too!!

Something’s off with Brian.

There’s a heaviness that bleeds into his posture, shoulders sagging and overwhelmed by a defeat Jae can’t quite place. It’s evident from the moment he comes home. distracted and unfazed by Jae’s “What, no leftovers for me?”, letting it roll off his shoulders before plopping down unceremoniously on their sofa beside him.

Jae’s expression is drawn in concern; it’s on instinct that he scoots closer, inhaling the scent of homemade kimchi and New York metro before wrinkling his nose. “You need a shower.” he tries next. 

Brian’s not having that, either. “Not now.” he mutters through gritted teeth, and any hint of a teasing grin vanishes from Jae’s features. He draws back in apology, but Brian catches on with a tired sigh.

“Sorry.” he mumbles. “Long day.”

Jae nods in understanding; he knows Brian’s relationship with his parents isn’t the easiest. It’s not that he doesn’t love them –– on the contrary, if anything, he loves them too much. But the expectations of success placed on an only child of two Asian immigrants can be a lot, only overwhelmed tenfold by the feeling of failure, of Guggenheim Fellowship rejection letters and the stubborn clinging to words left unsaid.

So Jae gets it: It’s a family issue.

“Grandma’s dying.”

“Oh.” That’s not the family issue he’s expecting.

The thing is, Jae never really knew his grandparents; unlike Brian’s family, his own weren’t too pleased when his dad had decided he wanted to go abroad for college –– and after he’d applied for several universities and got into one without Jae’s grandparents’ knowledge, he had left Korea without so much as a “see you later.”

The thing is, Brian’s family isn’t like that at all, having been the most encouraging when Brian’s parents had expressed the desire to move to New York in search of greener pastures, of a better life for then-eight year old Brian. And while Brian hadn’t been able to go back to Ilsan since, save one instance when he was sixteen, he and his grandma were always texting, always calling –– distance had never gotten in the way of their relationship before.

Death, he’s sure, is a different story altogether.

“Oh.” Jae breathes again. He’s not sure what the most appropriate thing to say next is, options in mind ranging from ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ (which is a big no because _holy shit, she’s not dead_ yet _, you idiot_ ) to ‘I’m sure it will be alright’ (which isn’t something he can promise, and he doesn’t think Brian wants what can be seen as blind optimism right about now), and in the end he comes up with –– well, he comes up with nothing.

Thankfully, though, it seems like nothing is the correct answer, because Brian opens his mouth to speak once again. 

“It’s stage four lung cancer.” It takes a beat for Jae to notice the slight bite to Brian’s tone, the one associated with, but not quite, grief. His brow furrows again. “She’s not going to make it long.” Brian takes a breath. “They’re leaving for Korea this weekend, to see her.”

And there’s that tone again, seeping through his otherwise hollow voice. There’s something Brian’s not telling him. “They?” Jae echoes; Brian stiffens.

“They, uh, don’t want me there.” he mumbles. “They think I’m too emotional, won’t be able to handle my feelings well, knowing that she’s––” His voice trails off, in a daze, but Jae feels a sudden surge of personal affront. 

“Emotional?” he repeats in disbelief. “Who _isn’t_ emotional at a time like this? Why _aren’t_ you _allowed_ to be emotional at a time like this?” Jae gesticulates wildly; Brian’s gaze remains unfocused, so he spurs on. 

“If anything, wouldn’t your grandma be happy to see you, knowing she doesn’t have lots of ––” he swallows. “–– you know! I mean, isn’t it right for you, too –– healing, or something, getting to see her one last time before ––”

“She doesn’t know.”

Jae blinks, and tries to understand. 

“Huh.” he says, not understanding.

Brian sighs, for the nth time that night, and while Jae wants so badly to lean over and kiss those sighs away he has too many questions running in his head that he now needs answers to. Je roots himself in his spot, watching the other put his head in his hands and speaks again, probably reciting something his father had said over dinner.

“She doesn’t know, and the family thinks it’s better that way –– that we don’t tell her anything.”

“I don’t understand.” Jae says, nowhere near comprehension. “How is that better?”

“My mom says when people get cancer, they die.”

Jae squints, a split second away from yelling _What the fuck?_ , before Brian continues. “It’s not the cancer that kills them, it’s the fear.”

If it’s a lot to process for Jae, he can’t even imagine what Brian’s feeling right now. “They’re all coming home for my cousin’s wedding, is what they’re telling her.” the younger explains, trying to keep his cool, like he’s proving something to his family by being this way (it’s futile, Jae thinks, because he can still hear a tremble in his timbre). “He and his girlfriend –– they’re going to pretend to get married, so they can all come and say goodb––”

His voice breaks off, then, and Jae takes that as his cue to reach around him, pulling him into a hug, letting his arms speak for him. Still, “Hey.” Jae finds himself saying. “It’s okay.”

Then Brian pitches forward, Jae catching him and his arms wrapped tightly around Jar’s back as if he’s afraid to let him go, too. There are tears now, racking through Brian’s shoulders through the earth, but even when he’s sobbing he’s quiet; Jae pats his back, whispers “It’s okay.” into Brian’s shivers.

He mutters something into the crook of his shoulder, indecipherable, but Jae doesn’t think to ask what it is; instead, he holds Brian closer through his quiet tears, thinking about how the night can be tender and cruel all at the same time.

––––

It’s almost like Brian had cried out every emotion that night, because as the weekend passes and his family leaves for Korea he becomes akin to a shell of a person, barely eating, barely sleeping. Hie parents call, a few hours before their flight, but it’s Jae who picks up the phone after Brian locks himself in his room.

“He told me to tell you to have a safe flight.” he lies, hoping the pang of regret in his voice doesn’t bleed through the call.

If anything, Jae is equally distressed –– afraid of misstepping, of saying or doing something he shouldn’t –– but he doesn’t think it’s as evident as it is until band practice where Wonpil (graciously) remarks, with all the tact in the world, “You look like shit.”

“And you’re, what, Prince Charming?” Jae snaps back, stubbornly pushing his glasses back up his nose; Wonpil snickers at him, undeterred, but behind his drum kit Dowoon looks on with a genuine concern. 

“He’s right, hyung –– though I don’t think I’d say it like that.” Dowoon adds hastily when Jae squints in his direction. The youngest member of 50 Proof fidgets with his drumsticks, a flush coloring his cheeks before he mumbles, “You haven’t been playing on beat all afternoon …”

And Jae winces, then, because if it’s affecting even his music he knows it’s bad. “I’m sorry.” he falters. “Brian’s just going through a lot right now, and it’s kind of messing me up, too.”

Wonpil frowns. “You should get hyung to jam with us some time.” he gestures between the three of them crowding his and Dowoon’s shared flat. “Laying down some violin over some of our tracks would sound super sick, and it’ll keep his mind off of what’s eating him.”

Jae sighs; he’s been doing that a lot lately –– supposes it’s another consequence of living in such close capacity to Brian. “He hasn’t picked up his violin in … a while.” _Since the Guggenheim Fellowship_ , he thinks, but knows better than to say it. “And I don’t know if it’ll be enough to take his mind off of … what he’s going through right now.”

And it’s true: in the scarce instances Jae’s managed to catch him outside his room, Brian’s only topics of conversation revolved around how much he misses his grandma already. How she makes the best samgyetang. How she used to buy him and Sungjin (his cousin) all the latest copies of the Dragon Ball manga. How she got him his first violin, because she saw how much music made him happy. How that’s all she ever asked of him, before she was gone –– to be happy, to not be alone.

Jae sighs, stewing in his own helplessness; it’s bad enough to watch Brian crumble like this, even more so to witness it up close and not being able to do anything about it.

Wonpil, unsurprisingly, is no help. “Maybe now’s the time to confess your undying love for him.” he offers, and Jae doesn’t even have time to react before the keyboardist is narrowly avoiding the half empty bottle of water Dowoon throws in his direction. 

“Hey––!” Now it’s Jae’s turn to snicker as Wonpil turns back to his boyfriend, feigning hurt near convincingly. “It’s a fair suggestion! Love can get you out of any kind of tough time.” To make his point, he sidles up to Dowoon, sitting on his lap with a fondness in his gaze that’s reciprocated almost immediately. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“One, gross.” Jae finally finds it in him to interject before he ends up hurling at the display, holding up his index finger in enumeration. “Two, I am not–– please–– in _love_ ––” it’s the verbal equivalent of falling flat on his face in slow motion. “I’m not in _love_ with Brian. I’ve dated before!” 

_Three_ , he thinks haplessly, _it’s not like Brian is in love with me, too_.

Dowoon and Wonpil look at each other, unconvinced. “Well,” Dowoon begins uneasily. “The operative word there is … _before_ , isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Wonpil supplies. “Face it, hyung. You may have been seeing other people, but you and Brian hyung have been implicitly exclusive since you were kids.”

Jae scoffs at that, because he scoffs at most of the things Wonpil says, but whether he likes it or not the other’s words cause the cogs in his head to start turning. It’s not the first time he’s heard those words before; having people assume that he and Brian were dating comes as not only a common occurrence, but also a not so gentle reminder that Brian is, in fact, _not_ interested in him romantically. It hurts Jae more often than he’d like to admit, to grin half-smug and say “No, he wishes, though”, but he knows better than to come too close to things better left unsaid.

Well –– he should know better, at least, except right now his eyes are widening with an idea that falls somewhere between crazy brilliant and crazy stupid. Wonpil picks up on this, too, because there’s now a worried undertone lacing his words. “Hyung … ?”

_How that’s all she ever asked of him, before she was gone –– to be happy, to not be alone._

“Gotta run!” Jae exclaims with a grin too wide for his face, and before Wonpil can second guess him he’s already packed his guitar, halfway out the door.

––––

“Hey.” Brian says when Jae swings the door to their apartment wide open.  
“Be my boyfriend.” Jae says, at the same time and slightly feral.

Brian opens his mouth, then closes it shut after two seconds, then tries again after four. “What.”

 _Context,_ Jae reminds himself. “Let’s go to Ilsan,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And let’s tell your grandma we’re dating.”

This is a foolproof plan, he thinks. He is a genius, he thinks.

So when Brian –– get this –– so when Brian _laughs_ at him, actually doubles down and slaps his knee and the whole shebang, Jae can’t help the offense that colours his features, nor the indignant flush that peppers his cheeks.

He waits a moment for Brian to collect himself before cocking an eyebrow. 

“What?” he challenges, hands outstretched, and Brian rolls his eyes.

“Thanks for the laugh, Jae.” he deadpans, turning his back on him and walking to their kitchen. “Needed that.”

(Jae won’t admit it, but he’d been needing to hear Brian’s laugh, too.)

Still, the older boy is relentless; he leans his guitar against the wall and makes a beeline to the fridge, taking out stacks upon stacks of leftovers before Brian can intervene. “Listen.” he insists, and is grateful when Brian does (even if it doesn’t spare him a heavy sigh).

“Your grandma said that her wish for you was to end up with someone before she’d–– she said she wants you happy with someone, right?” There’s a flicker of surprise in Brian’s expression, as if he hadn’t expected Jae to remember; Jae doesn’t feel the need to point out that he remembers everything about him. “I could fly back to Korea with you, like a plus one to the wedding or whatever, and you could give that to her. Make her wish come true.”

Silence. Brian looks deep in thought, eyebrows drawn together, and for a brief moment Jae wonders if he’d sold the idea too hard or too much (or, he considers with slowly mounting horror, that Brian doesn’t even want to fake date him for show). 

Finally, “I don’t know.” Brian exhales. “Maybe my family’s right, you know? I’d just –– I’d just give it away, anyway … besides,” he gestures to himself sardonically. “I doubt she’d be proud to see me, the way I am.”

Jae frowns at this. “The way you are?” he repeats, unconvinced. “Dude, you’re like –– no joke –– one of the best people I know. Why _wouldn’t_ your grandma be proud of you? I mean,” he gestures to Brian, too, except this time a bit wilder, enthusiastic. “The way you are.”

Brian chuckles. “If I didn’t know any better, it’s like you’re trying to date me for real.” he jests; Jae hopes the laugh he lets out doesn’t sound too halfhearted.

The conversation drops there, for a bit, because Jae is hungry and Brian complains that if the leftovers stay out any longer they’ll spoil, but half an hour later, in the middle of a mouthful of takeout Brian asks, “What’s in it for you? –– coming with me, I mean.”

Jae swallows thickly; he doesn’t think _Getting to pretend I’m dating you is enough!_ would be an acceptable answer. 

“All the baby Brian pictures.” he decides on, finally. A broad smile lights up the corners of Jae’s face when he realizes all the embarrassing stories he’s bound to hear about the other in his younger years isn’t actually a bad consolation –– if Brian’s grimace is any indication, those pictures are bound to be good. 

“And, you know ––” his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “–– haven’t been to Korea in a minute. Figured I’d say _hello_.” His Korean hello is slightly accented, but it’s worth it, seeing the smile that begins to adorn Brian’s face. 

Jae pauses, swallowing the pad thai that stuffs his cheeks. “Does that mean we’re going through with _Operation Jaehyungparkian?_ ”

A beat passes; Jae holds his breath. “Sure.” Brian finally concedes, before holding up a sharp index finger. “But you’re legally obligated not to call it –– or _us_ –– that in public ever again.”

“Jeez.” Jae snorts, mildly offended. “Some boyfriend you are.”

Brian chokes on his iced tea, and he breaks into a laugh. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” the younger laments.

But he bumps his knee against Jae’s and lets the contact linger, smiling in quiet gratitude, and Jae finds that he’ll never get used to the little things Brian does that make their way to his heart.

 _This_ , he realizes belatedly, _is going to be a long trip._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i took a big old depression nap in the afternoon before writing this so now i am wide awake at 3am hows your week going

“Okay, last question ––” he holds the picture up. “Who’s this?”

A heavy silence takes over the four walls of their apartment. Jae squints in deep concentration at the photo Brian’s holding up across him; adjacent to them, Wonpil and Dowoon look like they’re spectating a very intense football match with bated breath. The Chinese food they’re eating sprawls, abandoned, in paper boxes across their living room table.

The silence: it looms, it leans, it stretches, for what seems like infinity –– until there’s realization that flickers in Jae’s eyes, and in excitement he claps before pointing a very long index finger across him.

“Ah, Aunt–– your _Aunt Minyoung_!” he exclaims in triumph, all too certain after having stared at the middle aged lady’s picture for way too long, “Your dad’s cousin!” 

“Correct!” Brian’s grinning from ear to ear, delight bubbling in his throat as he offers Jae a high five; Dowoon and Wonpil roar in celebration, lunging forward to give Jae congratulatory slaps on the back that, in Wonpil’s case, may or may not just be an excuse to hit him.

It’s 12 hours before Brian and Jae leave for Korea. They’ve been at this for the past few days already, Brian teaching Jae more about the extended family he rarely talks about, the relatives he’s about to meet; it’s nice, Jae thinks, to pretend, for just a moment, that maybe it _isn’t_ pretend –– that the nerves in his stomach are fueled by the fact that he’s meeting his _actual_ boyfriend’s family for the first time ever.

(When Jae had invited the other two over “for practice,” this wasn’t the rehearsal they had had in mind.

“Hyung, I say this because I love you,” Wonpil had begun, letting himself in with Dowoon in tow. “This is dumb.”

The looks of vague concern Dowoon threw his way every so often didn’t escape him, either.)

Still, it’s nice to be in their (endearing? annoying?) company, given the fact that Jae won’t be seeing anyone or anything familiar for quite a bit. Well –– with the exception of Brian, of course, and he supposes, to an extent, that’s all the familiarity he’ll ever need. 

And at the very least, he’s glad to see Brian a lot more relaxed than he’s been the past couple of days; after the initial panic and grief and disbelief of Jae’s plan had settled in, there was still so much to figure out, like when to book their flight and how they were going to get around Korea and how they were going to pass off as convincing enough boyfriends (Jae thinks that part’ll be a lot easier for him than it is for the other, but he keeps quiet).

But here, now –– Brian looks, sounds, even laughs like Brian again, and Jae would do anything if he could get him to look like that everyday.

“Hyung, your family is very good looking.” Wonpil nods; Brian beams at him. 

“Thanks.”

“If you and Jaehyung hyung could have kids somehow, I hope they get your genes instead.”

“Me too.”

“You cannot _shit talk_ me in my own home.” Jae says, words dripping in exasperation (and very much _unaffected_ by the thought of starting a family with Brian, thank you very much). Wonpil holds up a peace sign in half-assed apology, and Brian smiles with a growing amusement. 

“It’s my home, too, you know.” Brian counters, “And I’ll do whatever I want.” He moves to stand, making his way around the food-littered table. Wordlessly, Jae shifts in his position so the younger can occupy the arm of the chair he’s sitting on.

(He tries to ignore the look Wonpil and Dowoon share that comes with it.)

A familiar pout graces Jae’s features, and he leans back against the chair in silent tantrum. “You can’t be this mean to your _boyfriend_ , you know.” He’s smug when he says this, knowing full well throwing the (fake!) label around the past few days has caused any possible retort Brian’s had to die on his tongue in a fluster.

So when Brian leans closer to him, too, arms brushing up together, and says, “Maybe my _boyfriend_ shouldn’t make it so easy, then.” it's Jae’s turn to freeze –– eyes wide at the younger’s surge of confidence, at the falter of his own. 

He tries to school his expression back to neutrality but Brian catches on faster, grin broadening in unspoken checkmate; he pulls away, clearly satisfied with himself, and Jae momentarily forgets they’re in other people’s company until Wonpil clears his throat exaggeratedly.

“Hey, Dowoon.” he says, to both Dowoon and to everyone and also no one in particular. “Remember that thing we have to do back home?”

The momentary confusion on Dowoon’s face is wiped clean with a shared glance, and he stands. “Yes.” he says, also to everybody and nobody. “That thing. Let’s get home, and get on that right now.”

“You guys are weird.” Brian remarks, wholly unaware of the way Jae flips them both off and how Wonpil grins devilishly in response. His expression morphs into slight mortification, borderline disgust, and he wrinkles his nose. “God, _no_ –– are you referring to, like, a sex thing?”

Wonpil winks at him. “I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

“Get out of our house.”

––––

Wonpil and Dowoon do, eventually, after a combination of helping clean dinner up, a none too sappy ‘see you later,’ and a forced promise on Jae and Brian’s part to bring back souvenirs.

(On Jae’s end there’s the addition of Dowoon giving him an awkward but endearing pat on the back; it’s weird, but not as weird in comparison to the serious “Don’t fuck this up, hyung.” he follows up with.

Jae snorts. “C’mon, Dowoonie.” he shrugs off the hand carelessly. “You know I’m a good actor when I want to be; Brian’s fam won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He does his best not to be too unnerved by the concern that etches its way onto Dowoon’s features –– the same glance he’d been sneaking him the whole night. 

“That’s not what I mean.”)

“They’re good kids, aren’t they?” Brian muses in the middle of packing, and Jae barks out a laugh.

“You sound like an old uncle.” he comments, reflexes fast enough to catch the throw pillow Brian shoves in his direction. “It’s true! ‘Good kids’ headass; you know they’re only, what, a year or two younger than you?”

Brian chuckles, though his hands remain busy folding shirts into as neat a pile as he can manage. “You’re one to talk. Remember when they told you they’d started dating?” he retorts. “Pretty sure I’d never seen you more protective in my whole life –– and that’s a fair observation to make, because I practically _have_.”

“They didn’t _tell_ me.” Jae points out defensively. “I went to their apartment for practice, and there they were, _sucking each other’s faces off_ ––” he squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to be rid of the memory forever; it’s unsuccessful. “It was _weird_. No. We don’t talk about that.”

The younger boy rolls his eyes. “C’mon. You knew it was bound to happen at some point.” he folds another shirt. “Being best friends and all.”

There’s another strange tone lacing Brian’s voice now; Jae chalks it up to a combination of exhaustion and nerves, which would be perfectly valid –– and if he’s being perfectly candid, he doesn’t know how to respond to that without saying something that he might regret.

A comfortable silence falls between them, save the soft orchestra music that plays through Brian’s phone. There’s a break in between the symphony of instruments for a violin solo, crisp and clear, and Jae doesn’t miss the winsome smile that forms against Brian’s features. 

He’s nearly done with packing when the other speaks again.

“Did you ever think –– when you were younger, obviously –– that when you grew up you’d fall in love with your best friend?”

Jae feels his throat go dry. There are about a million questions running through his mind right now –– the most evident of which being _Where is Brian going with this?_ –– but when he looks up he finds the other waiting for him with a strange anticipation in his gaze and something else Jae can’t quite place, and if there’s one thing Jae hates more than not knowing anything it’s not knowing what’s going through his best friend’s head. 

He realizes he’s still waiting for a response, and clears his throat. “Yeah.” _Yeah_ , he wants to continue. _Yeah, and I was right, because I’m in love with you_.

But the words die on his lips when Dowoon’s voice rings in his head, loud and clear and _alarming_ ––

_Don’t fuck this up, hyung._

“I mean ... I was right, wasn’t I?” There’s a teasing tone in his voice now –– forced, but he hopes Brian doesn’t notice. “Now I get to meet the family, honey!”

He doesn’t dodge the pillow that comes his way next; it’s a good shield for the redness that begins to spread across his cheeks, the way his hands start to tremble.

“You’re an idiot.” Brian says.  
He doesn’t disagree.

––––

The thing about Jae is that he hates situations that feel out of his control.

Brian says it’s the Virgo in him; Jae says that doesn’t mean anything. But in every circumstance he finds himself in, the Virgo desires nothing more than agency –– to feel like more than just a pawn in the universe’s convoluted and oftentimes very unfair game. To sit back and watch things unfold has never been in Jae’s character, and so to have things simply _happen_ to him (i.e. amusement park rides, catching feelings for his best friend) has never gone over quite well.

This, of course, is just a very long way of saying that Jae absolutely fucking hates plane rides.

It’s something about the thought of sitting in a metal container in the sky for 14 hours, but by the four hour mark he’s barely eaten, barely slept, and is one tiny jolt away from biting his entire hand off.

The things he does for love, _honestly_.

Speaking of –– his heart, at the very least, manages to relax itself quite a bit at the sight of the boy at his side. Brian’s eyes are shut tightly in determined sleep, and Jae wonders what he’s dreaming about; if he can still hear the music drifting through his ear from their shared playlist. A smile, albeit hesitant, plays at his features.

It’s wiped away immediately, obviously, because the universe doesn’t let him have nice things, and the plane immediately goes through a lengthy patch of turbulence that has him close to nausea.

Somewhere in between him squeezing his own eyes securely and the plane finally steadying itself in time with his breaths, Jae realizes that Brian’s head has fallen on his shoulder, hand firmly clasped atop his, and now he feels nauseous for a different reason entirely. 

From how close he is Jae can trace every feature on Brian’s face, from the tired bags under his eyes to the small cut he has on his chin from shaving too haphazardly. He’s perfect, and Jae is afraid to move, lest he shatter this moment of reprieve –– the calm before the storm.

But by the eight hour mark he feels his own eyes grow heavy with exhaustion; he rests his head on top of Brian’s, hoping the younger will allow him this moment, too.

(The next thing he knows is that by the time he wakes up, the sun is streaming through their window, the flight attendant across the speaker is welcoming him to Korea, and Brian still hasn’t pulled away.)

––––

Incheon is a sea of faces and bodies from all walks of life. The airport ceiling is brightly lit, floor gleaming with marble, and every corner is packed with stores and restaurants and _distractions_ –– it’s easy to get overwhelmed.

So it’s Brian who does most of the talking; Jae’s Korean is subpar at best, heavily accented and strange on his tongue, but the younger boy is quick to navigate through the hordes of travelers and families, young and old alike, and Jae’s content in this –– for some reason, from the moment they’d stepped off the plane Brian looked both ill at ease and right at home.

The airport taxi they manage to get drives past alleys and towns Jae’s never seen before; he can’t tell if they’re going the right way or not, but when he looks over Brian’s completely immersed in the sight of skyscrapers and shopping streets, eyes shining with an exciting familiarity Jae knows, with a mixture of awe and envy, he could never mimic.

The driver pulls over by a small compound of buildings, peach and baby blue, and by the sharp inhale Brian takes, Jae knows they’ve reached his grandma’s apartment without him having to say the words. 

They take their luggage from the trunk of the driver’s car and offer a small bow in thanks, and as they watch the car drive away they glance up at the buildings that loom over them. Jae looks at Brian, watches the uncertainty bleed into his face.

“Hey.” he nudges him, breaking him out of whatever distracted trance he falls under. “You got this.”

Brian stares at him; Jae feels his own nerves flood his insides, because, God, what if Wonpil’s right? What if this _is_ stupid? What if he messes things up –– what if he messes _them_ up –– and by the time he flies back to New York he’s not only lost a roommate but his best friend?

But just then –– Brian breaks into the tiniest of smiles, and Jae can’t help but smile back, worries dispelled. “Thanks, Jae.”

They take a deep breath together. Their suitcases wheel against the concrete floor.

––––

Grandma Kang’s apartment building is old –– like, no elevator, only narrow staircase old.

(“Didn’t think to–– mention this part–– did you?” Jae grumbles through heavy breaths, suitcase lugging behind him. In front of him, Brian looks equally tired, clutching on to the railing as if for dear life.

“ _Forgot_.” he says, pained.

“You don’t _say_.”)

There’s a dimly lit bulb hanging outside Brian’s grandma’s door, as well as a Christmas wreath Jae supposes they had decided to put up two months too early (or decided to keep on ten months too late). From inside, there’s the noise of something on the stove, of loud laughter and chattering in a language Jae only half understands. They stand outside for a while, gathering what little breaths they have left.

“Hold on.”   
“Huh––”

Brian reaches over, pushing up his glasses that had been dangerously close to slipping off his nose, and before Jae can even _begin_ to unpack that, he knocks at the door.

For a few seconds there’s no answer, and Brian’s hand is raised, about to knock again, when the door finally swings open to reveal a boy about Brian’s height, of muscular build and eyes that are intimidating but far from unkind. 

No, if anything, there’s a shock that laces his gaze, and it’s only when the boy speaks –– ”Brian––?” that Jae recognizes him to be Sungjin, Brian’s older cousin.

Brian bows immediately, Jae following suit; “Hi, Sungjin hyung–– it’s –– it’s been a while ...” and Brian is too nervous to notice the incredulity that coats Sungjin’s features is replaced with an unconcealed delight. “This is my––”

“ _Brian_!” Sungjin exclaims again, louder this time, and Brian stifles down the yelp that nearly leaves him when he’s pulled into a tight hug. “You’re … you’re here? What–– Aunt and Uncle said you wouldn’t be coming ––”

“Yah, Sungjin-ah!”   
“Who’s at the door?”  
“Brian–– did he say _Brian_ ––?”

More voices draw nearer to the entrance, and just like that Jae finds himself meeting the Kang family all at once: 

  1. He knows Brian’s mom and dad right away, both from memory and the disbelieving, appalled stare they give both of them. 
  2. A distinguished older man –– _Uncle Jinyoung_ , Jae recalls, _Sungjin’s father_ –– peers at them through horn-rimmed glasses; 
  3. he has his arm around a woman who looks half his age, whom he can only assume is Sungjin’s stepmother. 
  4. Another girl, bearing no resemblance to any of the family but nice looking no less, makes a beeline to Sungjin’s side –– his girlfriend, Nayeon.
  5. And of course.



“Brian?”

The delayed voice is elderly –– shrewd, but not lacking in warmth; Jae knows it well, has heard it muffled through the phone so many times over. The relatives who’ve gathered in front of the door part in the middle, paving the way for the small, gray-haired woman to move forward, eyes squinting then all at once wide with shock at the realization.

Grandma Kang.

A beat passes. They stare.

And then.

“Grandma––” Brian swallows thickly, throat on the verge of swelling shut; his mouth quivers, and before he can break down he meets Jae’s eyes, a silent plea for reassurance.

_You got this._

So Brian bows, and tries again. “Hi, Grandma.”   
Only this time, he takes Jae’s hand, tight and clammy in his own.

“This is Jae, my boyfriend.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took a little longer than expected (and IS a little longer than expected, omg) but i'm rly grateful for the people who are enjoying this so far !! <3 also haikyuu s4 part 2 came out this weekend so my serotonin = boosted !

(“This isn’t working.”

“You’re right.” Jae frowns, picking at the contents of his bowl with his chopsticks. “I mean, I typically like fusion food, but this isn’t it.” He makes a mental note to tell Brian his food recommendation source sucks ass later when he gets home.

Across the table, Jackson sighs, but it’s not unkindly; it’s the sigh of someone who’s half amused and half wistful, as if watching something great slip through his fingertips without being able to do anything about it. “You’re right.” he concedes, before trying again. “But Jae.”

“Seriously, what even is this? I eat everything –– you _know_ I eat everything –– but I can’t take one more bite, I think––”

“ _Jae_.” 

Words falter, subsiding to the back of his throat; Jae looks up, questioning. “Hm?”

“I think we should break up.”

And if Jae thought the food hadn’t been palatable before then, _well_.

“Huh?” he blinks, once, twice; there’s a playful smile teasing the corners of his lips in case this is Jackson’s (really bad) idea of a joke, but one glance is enough to tell him Jackson isn’t kidding around. His face falls.

“Did I––” he inhales, sharply. “Is there someone else?”  
Jackson’s smile is both knowing _and_ indecipherable; the fact that he can even smile as he ends their relationship drives Jae up the wall. “No.” he begins. “And also, kind of, yes.”

Jae’s frown deepens; the chopsticks he’s holding fall into his bowl with a graceless _clang_ , indigestible mush abandoned. “What the _fuck_ is that supposed to mean.” he demands. “Look, if you’re cheating on me, I’d rather you tell me flat out instead of being cryptic, _especially_ when you’re not any good at it.”

Now it’s Jackson’s turn to frown, gaze intensified in a split second. “And _I’d_ rather you’d told me flat out you were in love with someone else before we started dating, but here we are.”

The words hit Jae like a cold slap to the face. “I am _not_ in love with someone else.” he denies, affronted; his hands grip tightly at the arms of his seat. “That’s bullshit, Jackson.”

“Is it?” Jackson glowers. “Because for a majority of our relationship I’ve felt like you were holding my hand but hoping it was someone else’s.” 

Jae goes quiet. There’s an anger that stews in him, but he’s not sure what (or who) he’s actually angry at: whether it’s the fact that Jackson decides to do this with him _now_ , at some shitty fusion restaurant,   
or that there’s a small, relentless part of him that knows –– no matter how much he denies it –– that he’s right.

Jackson sighs. “Look,” he continues, “I don’t think you’re a bad person, Jae. But _I_ know that _you_ know this ––” he gestures between the two of them. “–– isn’t what you want. And I’m not _who_ you want, either.”

The silence is so palpable Jae could stab it with his chopsticks; instead, he clears his throat. 

“Well,” he starts, keeping his voice as even-tempered as he can. “I guess it takes one to know one, doesn’t it?”

The stunned look in Jackson’s eyes tells him he’s right, too.

The date ends in more silence, in an almost but not quite amicable parting of ways. Jae texts Brian and asks him if he wants to get some post-breakup ice cream, and maybe it’s a little awful how much less sad he is than he should be.)

––––

_This is Jae, my boyfriend._

Pin drop silence. Jae feels the weight of seven new pairs of eyes on him, and –– he’ll be honest –– it doesn’t feel _great_ when he doesn’t know what’s going on in their heads. 

He wonders if he has something on his face. He wonders if _Brian_ has something on his face. He wonders if they can tell right away, if not that this relationship is a sham but that there’s one-sided adoration coming from the stupid, _pathetic_ , lovesick boy that’s followed his best friend all the way to Korea to incite a flimsy plan that doesn’t even ––

“Brian!”

And within the ten seconds (or ten ages, it feels more like) Jae’s known her, Grandma Kang immediately comes to the rescue, utterly overjoyed at the sight of who might quite possibly be her favorite grandson –– who she may believe is also the _universe’s_ favorite grandson. 

“Brian, oh, my sweet boy!” Immediately, Jae watches the boy beside him get yanked into the second hug since he’s arrived –– and immediately, Jae watches Brian melt into the woman’s touch, dazed and quiet and (Jae can tell) trying his best to keep his emotions from spilling out and ruining the grand lie from the get go.

“Your mom said you were too busy to come, but oh –– oh, here you are!” Grandma Kang kisses all over Brian’s face, doting upon him like he’s a child, and Jae has half a mind to laugh, just a little, until said attention is focused on _him_ . “And Jae! It’s so wonderful to meet the boy who makes my Brian so _happy_!”

Jae moves to bow again, but for an old woman Grandma’s reflexes are faster; he barely registers when she’s let go of Brian and pulled him into a hug, but for some reason he feels a warmth envelop him, like he’s known her all his life. It takes but a moment before his hands come to wrap around her, too, and his smile softens into something a little more genuine. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kang.” he says, Korean slow but firm; he finds that he means it.

It’s with a reminder that there are several _other_ people in the room he has yet to address, and the addition Brian’s clearing his throat, that he pulls away finally, Grandma Kang’s beaming at him filling him with both comfort and a sense of guilt –– _this_ is the woman they’re all lying to?

“Come, come inside! Sungjin-ah, help them with their things––!” Grandma’s ushering them in now, practically shoving them through the small hallway that leads to the rest of their apartment. Jae can still feel the eyes watching his every move; he reaches his hand out blindly behind him, and his heart skips a beat when he feels Brian’s fingers clasp around it.

He’s shaking.

The apartment is small, but homey: bookshelves are stacked with mementos of travel and pictures of relatives, young and old. An old radio, situated on top of a cupboard, whirs out faint static and the occasional news announcement, surrounded by old jade ornaments and silver utensils. A pine bonsai tree sits in the middle of the dining room table, large enough to accompany the whole family. 

Jae comes to the realization, with a broken heart, that most of the time that table must stay quite empty.

Oblivious, Grandma Kang hasn’t stopped talking; even with her age and her height she’s the clear domineering force, ordering the family to make room for the newcomers at the table. The scents and sights of Korean food are enough to make Jae’s mouth water, and he realizes just how hungry he’s become since stepping off the plane.

“Sit here, sit here, you can stay together!” Grandma is insistent, leaving the spot next to her open for Brian to occupy, which after a moment’s hesitation he does. She takes his face in her hands, the beam on her face, Jae notices with awe, still perfectly intact. “Oh, you’ve gotten so _skinny_! Your mom said you were not so, but you should be eating more!” she nods, determinedly. “We’ll fix that here.”

Brian opens his mouth, as if to say something –– only to shut it after a few moments. For the first time since they’ve arrived, Grandma Kang’s face falls.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, glancing at Jae as if he has the answer, too. “Why aren’t you talking?”

Everyone at the table falls quiet. Anticipation lingers in the air, and Jae can only watch as Brian’s eyes flicker, from his family to Jae to the old lady who, at the moment, is the picture of concern.

After a few long beats, Brian exhales. “I missed you.”

It feels like it’s a collective exhale, too; Grandma doesn’t notice, waving his words away with a light chuckle. “Yes, but work comes first, I know!” she shrugs her shoulders, understanding. “How did you two get here, was it hard?”

Brian musters a smile; it causes Jae to smile, too. “No, Grandma.” he replies. “We swam here, so it was easy enough.”

Grandma’s laugh carries across the whole room; it’s infectious enough that other members of the family are smiling, too. It reminds Jae a lot of Brian’s laugh, of the way his eyes crinkle into fond crescent moons when truly delighted. 

He thinks it’s beautiful.

“Brian, Jae.” It’s cut short by Brian’s mom, tight-lipped and placid; the smile on her face is anything but warm. “Come help me in the kitchen.”

“ _Aish_ , Jieun,” Grandma frowns again. “Don’t be ridiculous, they just got here!”

“No, it’s okay, Grandma.” Brian shakes his head, and his expression shifts back to neutrality when he locks eyes with his mother. “It’s not a big deal; we’ll just grab the extra plates.” as if on cue, Jae nods alongside him.

Brian’s Grandma is reluctant at first, but eventually, after a soft pat on Brian’s cheek and a beam in Jae’s direction, she relinquishes her grip on the boy, and Brian immediately stands from the table with Jae not too far behind him. They’ve barely made a full step into the cramped kitchen when Kang Jieun is already dragging her son by the ear, ghost of a smile having already disappeared into a deep frown. “ _Ow_!” Brian complains almost immediately, but is shushed up. “Jeez, Mom!”

“ _Brian_ ,” she hisses. “What do you think you’re doing here? We told you, better not to come!” She lets go of his ear and opts, instead, for a very accusatory index finger prodded into his chest. “What if you cried right then and there when you saw her? Our whole cover would be blown! Then what?”

“But I didn’t!” retorts Brian. Jae nods in agreement, for good measure; so Brian hadn’t _excelled_ right off the bat, but everything was still fairly normal. Except for, well, _everything_. “I’m fine –– I’m _fine_. She doesn’t suspect a thing, and we made it okay.” 

“How did you even get here, huh? Credit card?”

Brian’s face falls momentarily, but he snaps out of it, shaking his head. “I told you, don’t worry–– here, look. Look, Mom.” 

All at once, Brian gives her his widest, most shit-eating grin. Jae snorts, only to still when Jieun fires her stony glare in his direction. “Uh … nice to see you again, Mrs. Kang.” he bows, if only slightly.

A beat passes and she rolls her eyes, shoving two plates in their direction.

“Go put these out on the table.” she orders, then adds, “Why even bring Jae into your mess? _Our_ mess?”

Brian pauses, then –– and since Jae’s never known him to talk back to his mother, it comes as a further shock when the other grabs his hand, as if in defiance.

“Well, I’m _lying_ , Mom.” he says. “Just like you.”

––––

The initial shock they’ve elicited upon their arrival seems to have subsided quite a bit, because as they come back to the dining table the Kang family seems to have resumed normal activity, chattering amongst themselves and making small talk. When Jae and Brian sit back at the table and begin their slow but steady assault on the food that’s been prepared, Grandma Kang looks at the full dining table and smiles.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been together like this.” she takes Jae’s hand, looking over at Nayeon unabashed excitement. “And now with the addition of two!” She nods in the girl’s direction. “If you try hard enough, soon there will be plenty more.”

“ _Grandma_.” Sungjin blurts out, a heavy red tinting the tips of his ears; Nayeon is just as embarrassed, burying her face with her hands. Grandma is indignant. “What? Since you two are getting married so soon, it’s only right to have a child.” she continues on as if she hadn’t been interrupted, as if it had been the most crystal clear thing in the world.

 _The wedding_ , Jae suddenly remembers –– the original lie, the whole fake reason they’re all gathered here together. He turns to Sungjin, who’s still flushing. “Congratulations –– _congratulations_.” he repeats in English, then Korean, trying not to sound as flustered as he probably appears. “You must be very excited.”

Sungjin smiles at him, grateful. “Oh, thank you.” he says in English a little breathlessly, but as they lock gazes Jae’s a little worried about the look that flashes against the other’s irises, like he’s realizing there’s something else they can focus on.

Surely enough, “So!” Sungjin points between him and Brian in no time. “How long have you two been together?” And if Jae had been flustered before, now he feels like there’s a very loud code red alarm ringing at the back of his head.

“Um …” a shared glance at Brian has him taking the younger’s hand, squeezing it tightly before he looks back at Sungjin. “It hasn’t been long ... we’ve known each other since middle school, so, you know.” he fakes a smile. “Not long, but, uh. It was a long time coming.” 

(Jae bitterly bites back the words he wants to add: _And there’s still a long way to go._ )

Grandma pats _his_ cheek now, grinning. “I knew all this time, of course.” she looks across the table proudly. “When Brian calls –– never stops talking about him! Jae this, Jae that.” she nods, a metaphorical patting herself on the back. “I _knew_ it had to be love.”

“Grandma, please.” Brian blushes; Jae takes satisfaction in that (but only a little, he swears). “Why does it _have_ to be love? Most of the time I’m just complaining about him.” 

Jae scowls at that, squeezing Brian’s hand a little too tightly, but again, Mrs. Kang waves her hand dismissively. “That’s how it always starts!” she insists. “Complain, complain … and then …” her voice trails off, but not without giving Jae a wink that makes _him_ blush, too. “What I want to know is, between you two, who knew _first_!”

Jae almost laughs a little, then, because wouldn’t _he_ like to know? It’d be nice to pinpoint the exact moment his eyes started lingering to Brian’s frame on instinct; when he started noticing the little things about Brian that made his heart flutter; when the thought of Brian with someone else made him dizzy with an emotion he knows the name to, but would rather not say. 

He looks at the boy beside him, and his smile softens, genuine. “I think I’ve known for a long time.”

Grandma Kang is pleased, but Brian’s eyes widen, and for a moment Jae wonders if he’s done and blown it –– if he’s fucked it up, just as they’ve begun, just like Dowoon’s warned him against doing. 

But Brian is quick, returning his smile with something like ease if it hadn’t been so well thought out in front of him. “And yet,” he starts, almost like he’s teasing him. “I’m the one who had to ask you.”

And then he leans forward to kiss Jae’s cheek.

Time stops. As does his entire universe, possibly.

Grandma giggles, delighted; she claps her hands excitedly, says something about her sweet boy being all grown up and _happy_ . Brian’s mom and dad share an unreadable glance, and Sungjin and Nayeon look at them with such reverence as if _they’re_ the ones set to be fake-married.

But none of those things matter now, because Brian _kissed_ _his cheek_ , and Jae knows he isn’t dreaming because he feels the burn of his lips against his skin; the pink tint that makes a home across his face doesn’t help, either. 

He registers the brief squeezing of his hand and he realizes his and Brian’s are still interlocked, the other willing him to meet his gaze. There’s a question in Brian’s eyes, that much he can tell, but Jae finds he doesn’t know what it is –– and isn’t sure he wants to know, either. 

_Lying, Mom_ , Brian had said. _Just like you_.  
 _It’s not real_ , Jae reminds himself. _It’s not real_.

Instead, he grins sheepishly, words stumbling over each other slowly as he replies. “You know me, babe.” he says, “Ever the idiot.”

––––

They talk a little more over dinner; Jae learns about Brian’s family and how they haven’t been complete like this in nearly a decade, since Brian’s grandfather passed away. He learns about Sungjin and his dad’s work in Hong Kong running a milk tea franchise, about how Sungjin met Nayeon through a family friend and ended up dating her after multiple hit or miss courtship attempts. 

Jae tells them about himself, too; about growing up in the States, about being the child of a lawyer and a plastic surgeon (no, his _mom_ is the lawyer), his political science degree, how he plays guitar in a band with two of his friends. He’s charming enough that by the end of it he’s made a promise to sing at Sungjin’s bachelor party, and Uncle Jinyoung has already begun a very half-hearted debate on politics.

(A lot of what he learns and what they learn about him, of course, is in major partnership with Brian’s quick translation skills –– because Jae may be trying his _hardest_ but intense, overlapping Korean can only go so far with his additionally jet lagged brain.) 

Jae takes a liking to the younger couple; they’re nowhere near as affectionate as Dowoon and Wonpil, which, you know, _thank God_ , but in the moments they think no one’s looking their eyes meet, and the corner of Sungjin’s lips curl up in a smile, shoulders previously tense beginning to relax ever so slightly knowing Nayeon’s holding his hand under the table. Nayeon looks up at him, and to Jae’s surprise she offers him a knowing grin.

 _That must be nice_ , Jae thinks in both awe and mild envy –– _to need no pretense with the person you love_.

He volunteers to wash the dishes, allows Brian to reconnect with his family without having to hard sell his boyfriend role, and just when he’s about to stew in his own feelings, Grandma Kang once again saves the day.

“He’s a good boy, you know.” she begins; Jae doesn’t need to look up at her to know her eyes are watching her grandson at the table. “So talented, too. When he was young, he would play violin in our old backyard and it would move me and his grandfather to tears.”

Jae can imagine that well enough; modest as he may be (even self-deprecating, at some points), he doesn’t think he’s ever met a more talented violinist than Brian. “He’s incredible.” he agrees wholeheartedly, before finally meeting her gaze with a smile.

It’s one Grandma Kang returns with ease. “Ah, you’re a good kid, too.” she tells him. “I’m glad you could come home with him. This wedding is a special time for the whole family, after all.” 

She pats his cheek, affection bleeding into the subtlest of touches. “Consider this your welcome, too!”

He finds nothing if not sincerity in her voice, and as she walks back to join her reunited loved ones Jae finds that he understands why Brian will miss her presence so dearly.

––––

As it turns out, the apartment is too small to house the whole family, so they’ve all decided to check at a hotel a few blocks away.

All except Brian, who’s very much averse to the idea when they point it out. “Why can’t I stay here?” he asks, voice nearly akin to that of a small child’s. “I always stay here when I come visit.”

“It’s just easier that we’re all at a nearby hotel.” Uncle Jinyoung explains, already shrugging on his coat. Brian tries to swallow his disappointment, but it’s clearly evident on his face; from across the room, his mother stares at him across the room, as if anticipating his moment of fucking up.

Jae takes his hand, and Brian’s mom’s stare lingers; he looks back, equally determined, and is thoroughly satisfied when she’s the first to break contact. “It’ll be fine, babe.” he says, squeezing his hand, and is just as satisfied, too, when Brian squeezes back and relents with a nod.

Grandma Kang nods emphatically. “Go get some rest! There’s much to do before the wedding, and we start tomorrow.” She takes one more look at Brian, and with a smile pulls him into one last hug, tight and reassuring. “I’ll still be here when you come back tomorrow, my sweet boy –– oh, I’ve missed you …”

In that split second Brian breaks, ever so slightly; mist clouds his eyesight in unshed tears, but the shake in his voice is minuscule as he replies, pulling himself together before his grandma can pull away.

“I’ve missed you too, Grandma.” he says, “So, so much.”

––––

Jae doesn’t realize how tired he is until the walk to the hotel, which is only two blocks away, and his eyes grow as heavy as the suitcase in his hand. Cheesy as it may sound, the only thing managing to keep him awake now is feeling Brian’s hand still enclosed around his own, and the fact that this is probably the longest time they’ve been in physical contact ever.

“You okay?” Brian mumbles; one glance at him and Jae can tell he’s burdened with both exhaustion and the weight of having to hide so much from his grandma –– he figures he can suck up his own tiredness a little longer.

“Yeah.” he tries for a smile, squeezing his hand again (because that’s their thing now, he supposes). “Don’t worry about me.”

But the universe is a huge fucking practical joke, and Jae’s life is the punchline, because it has other plans in store, ready to make him suffer.

As new and as nice as the hotel is, it’s small enough that an elevator was never seen as necessary, and apparently their room sits pretty on the fourth floor. Jae tries not to burst into tears at the revelation, as it’s very unbecoming in front of Brian’s family –– but as they spot the “4” symbol after a perilous journey up the stairs, he figures they won’t be able to tell the difference between sweat and tears anymore, anyway.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” he asks Sungjin behind him, who looks just as, if not even more exhausted than he is. He’s met with a grimace.

“More wedding prep.” the younger responds between heavy breaths. “Photoshoot … cake tasting … bachelor party …”

Jae whistles. “Seems like a lot for something that’s –– _fuck_ –– not real.” he muses, and it’s meant to be only to himself, but the other catches on easily, barking out a quiet chuckle.

“Grandma’s making sure everything’s perfect.” Sungjin explains. “It keeps her busy, keeps her _happy_ , knowing we’re all here … I’m just here to follow along.” 

Jae wonders what that’s like, to tether oneself to another so unquestionably; he looks at Brian, already walking ahead of him, and realizes he’s more familiar with that than he thinks.

Goodnights are exchanged, polite and prompt, and Jae and Brian walk down the empty hallway alone, their room lying at the end of it. It’s quiet at first, but not uncomfortable, and then Brian clears his throat.

Jae looks at him, eyebrow arched in questioning, until his eyes fall to their sides and –– oh.

They’re still holding hands.

“Shit.” Jae doesn’t mean to say that aloud, but there’s a swoop in his stomach when Brian smiles as he lets go. “Sorry.” he yawns, stifling it with the same hand. “Barely noticed. Your hand’s as gross as mine is.”

Brian rolls his eyes, but nudges his shoulder as he looks straight ahead. “C’mon, sleepyhead. Room’s this way.”

Jae thanks every conceivable deity in the universe as they approach their room and open the door with the keycard, and then promptly proceeds to curse said deities, because **_of fucking course there’s only one bed in this massive hotel room of course_ **––

 _God_ , the universe has served him _so_ much karma for being stupid today, hasn’t it? He chuckles to himself, almost maniacally, and Brian stares at his best friend as if worried he’s gone insane.

“Fuck all.” Jae sighs, lugging his bags into the room before all but sprawling himself on the couch. “Brian.” he says, matter-of-factly. “There’s only one bed.”

“Yes.” Brian responds dryly. “I can see that.” He puts his bags down beside Jae’s before moving to the window to see the view of the park outside. “It’s pretty here.” he mumbles. “The hotel is new, because I don’t remember it from last time, but … I know this park …”

His voice is far away and nostalgic; Jae smiles to himself, imagining a young Brian running around that same park, playing the violin his grandmother had bought him. It’s a nice thought, and it’s nice in itself, seeing Brian come back home.

They’re exhausted, for the most part; talk is limited to who gets to shower first and who sets the alarm and who buys breakfast (Jae makes the convincing argument of _Brian I don’t know how to speak enough Korean how do you want to trust me with ordering food_ ), but as Jae ruffles his newly dried hair and moves to put away the throw pillows on the sofa, Brian frowns. “What’re you doing?”

He blinks. “Putting these away?” he says like it’s a question, and it is, and the question is _What else would I be doing?_ “You can take the bed tonight and we can swap tomorrow. Or whenever, really, I don’t care.”

Brian snorts, and Jae realizes with a very sinking feeling what comes next. “Dude, we’ve been sharing beds since our middle school sleepovers. Plus, there’s enough space for both of us.” as if to demonstrate, he pats what space he’s already, apparently, left behind for him. “This is nothing.”

Jae looks from Brian, to the couch, to the empty half of the bed, and his sleep-addled brain makes the decision for him.

 _This is nothing_. Brian had said, and Jae reminds himself. _This is nothing_.

Tall, gangly frame slips itself under blankets, soft and slow, and there _should_ be enough space for them to move about comfortably, but for some reason Brian’s shoulder’s brushing against his –– not that he minds.

“Are you awake?” he hears Brian ask, and Jae lets out a very exaggerated “ _No_.” He doesn’t have to look over to see Brian roll his eyes to know that he does just that.

But then Brian says “Thank you,” and Jae does turn, ever so slightly, to look at him quizzically under the lamp light. “It’s –– I wouldn’t have made it through as well as I did if you weren’t here covering my ass before I did something stupid.” His words break into a yawn. “Yeah, I’m just –– I’m glad you’re here.”

Jae breathes deeply, trying to calm down his heart’s stuttering. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” he mumbles back, and without skipping a beat adds, “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met my new favorite Kang, Sungjin, and that’d be a real bummer.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Jae laughs, but no sound comes out; he turns over, steadying his breath even more.

“Hey, Brian?”  
“Hm?”  
“Do you think we should have, like –– like a safe word?”

A beat passes.

“What.”

He realizes the implication of that a minute too late, and is grateful Brian can’t see the crimson blush of his cheeks under the dim light. “I _mean_ ,” he adds hastily. “Just in case, I don’t know –– you get uncomfortable with the relationship stuff going too far … um, it’s just a suggestion, we don’t have to ––”

Jae doesn’t notice how Brian stiffens beside him, and for a few moments he thinks he’s fallen asleep on him, until he hears Brian mumble something under his breath. “Huh?”

“Pad thai.” Brian says, a little louder, but even then it’s barely audible. “The safe word. Pad thai. S’what you were eating when we started the whole …” he makes gestures with his hands, vaguely and half-assed. “This.”

“Oh.” Jae doesn’t remember that, but Brian’s never been one to lie about this type of thing, so he shrugs it off. “Pad thai?”

“Pad thai.”

And that’s that.

––––

When they wake up the next morning, Brian’s head is resting on his chest, legs tangled up in a mess of white sheets and gangly, sprawled out limbs, and Jae’s heart is about to explode in the disquiet.

They don’t call pad thai.


End file.
